


Luck

by HeartOfBellarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Light Swearing, bellarke fanfiction, bellarke reunion, not that fluffy..., the 100 fanfiction, the 100 season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartOfBellarke/pseuds/HeartOfBellarke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bellamy's fortune has trouble picking a side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Luck

**Author's Note:**

> A reward to all of my tumblr (heartofbellarke) followers since I hit 200! It's a little late since I've reached around 220 but better late than never, right?

To say that things were currently chaotic would be a huge understatement.

Bellamy could hear yelling from all sides of him as he and his group of Ark survivors rushed liberate the captured delinquents. The ones that had been freed were frantically running down the hallway, bumping into him and jostling him around. A few of them stopped to try and ask him questions:

How did he get in here?

How was he alive?

Where was Clarke?

He pushed them along before they had a chance to finish their list. There wasn't time for answers. Not now. Not while he had to get all of his people out of here. Some of them were moving slower than others and could barely make it out their cell before having to lean against the wall for support. Some looked fine and others looked like they were about to drop dead. What did the Mountain Men _do_ to them?

Finn's alarmed voice suddenly rang out over his radio and by the sound of it, the guards had reached the control room. He didn't have time to worry about Finn right now. The small group of survivors he had sent with him to unlock the doors would keep him safe...or at least he hoped. He'd never admit it but he'd be pretty pissed if Spacewalker let himself get killed. Bellamy still hadn't thanked him yet for saving his life and he'd be damned if he was going to let the Mountain Men take that chance away from him.

He quickly glanced down at the clipboard in his hand, trying to read the words through the blood that had smeared on the paper.

_C. Griffin. Room 302-5._

Bellamy tried not to think about how the Mountain Men knew her name. "About damn time." he mumbled to himself as he threw the clipboard to the ground and peered into the glass window on the top of her door. As he opened it, he thought he would see her face looking back at him, her memorable blue eyes filled with worry and excitement. The sight that greeted him was far from it.

"Bellamy?" her voice whispered from her position on her bed and the sight of dried blood staining her mouth, her cheeks, her hands...made him want to vomit. Small red patches littered her pale skin and there were dark circles under her drooping eyes. He should've known Clarke wouldn't be spared from the mindless tortures of the Mountain Men...but that didn't mean he didn't hope for it.

"Hey, Princess." he managed to say, a smirk making it's way onto his face as she slowly stood up and leaned on her bed for support before finally walking over to him, flinging her arms around his neck and nearly knocking him over with the force in which she did so. It was then that he remembered that he was technically supposed to be dead and Clarke's relief was obvious from the sounds of her muffled crying against his chest. He knew this was a time sensitive operation but he didn't have the heart to push her away, wrapping his arms around her shaking form instead.

"You're alive. You're alive. You're alive." she whispered over and over again as she pulled away from him slightly, her eyes darting up toward his face as if to make sure she wasn't just imagining him. The fact that Clarke, the brave princess, was crying over him gave him a strange feeling inside and he couldn't tell what it was (which scared him, though he would never admit it).

"Well, someone has to keep you out of trouble." he teased as he ruffled the blonde halo of hair atop her head, causing her to shoot him a familiar glare and smack his hand away. She brought her bloodied hands up toward her face and quickly wiped her tears away before taking a steadying breath to regain her composure. The only other time she had cried in front of him was when the Exodus ship crashed, and even then, she only let a few tears escape before retreating back to her tent (where he assumed she cried a whole lot more). He pondered telling her that her mother was indeed alive but figured they had wasted enough time already.

"What about-" she started but he cut her off, already knowing what she was going to say. "Finn's alive. He should be here any minute now." he answered as he helped her out the door, her arm wrapped around his shoulders as she leaned against him for support. She seemed to visibly brighten up at the news but didn't say anything, her lips pressed in a determined line as they made their way down the hallway and toward the waiting rescue group outside of the compound. They were moving slower than he would have liked (though he couldn't really blame Clarke for that) and the amount of adults and teenagers pushing through the narrow hallway didn't exactly help.

"Bellamy! The Mountain Men are heading your way. Hurry your ass up!" Finn yelled through the radio, sounding out of breath and as if he had just ran a marathon (Bellamy wouldn't put it past him). The older man let out a curse and Clarke seemed to pick up the urgency of their situation as they picked up their pace, already able to hear the pounding boots of the Mountain Men closing in on their position. If he remembered correctly, there were only a few turns left before they reached the exit and as enemy gunshots echoed through the hallways, he began to doubt their chances of making it out. Would the Mountain Men really kill them? Would they rather take them alive and subject them to infinite tests instead? Would the 100 do well without their leaders? Would the survivors from the Ark be accepting of them? Would he ever find Octavia? Was she even-

The nonsense bouncing through his head was cut off when searing pain erupted in the back of his leg, sending him and Clarke falling to the ground. Really? Now he got shot? He should've known better. His luck was never that great. He let out a frustrated scream through his gritted teeth and rolled himself onto his back so he could take in the scene before him. A few Mountain Men had reached he far end of the hallway and were running toward them, shooting any of the straggling teenagers in their wake. It pained him to think that they were probably better off dead than captured. The remaining members of the rescue group were fighting them off but Bellamy knew they were running out of time. He could barely move without shooting pain and numbness through his leg and he sure as hell couldn't support Clarke.

"Bellamy, I-I don't have the time to treat this now. You have to get up...we have to go...we have to..." Clarke pleaded desperately as she stumbled up, pulling at his arm and averting her eyes from the bloodshed in front of them. He almost had to look away from her at the sight of fear and panic and pain and worry clouding her features. He decided that look didn't suit Clarke Griffin.

"You need to leave me here and run like hell. You are not going to die in here, you understand me?" he said firmly, wrenching his arm from her grasp as he scooted over to the wall and propped himself up against it before pressing a hand to his wound to ease the bleeding. He squeezed his eyes shut briefly in pain and opened them again, cursing as he saw Clarke in the same position she was in a few moments ago. _Was she fucking suicidal?_

He wouldn't be able to live with himself (assuming he actually lived long enough) if Clarke died because she stayed to help him. He'd been responsible for enough deaths already, but this one, the death of the annoying yet courageous Clarke Griffin, was one that he could prevent. Despite his pleas, he had to watch helplessly and with growing anger as she crawled over next to him and tugged at the torn fabric of his shirt, ripping away a decent sized chunk and placing it over the bullet hole on the underside of his thigh.

"Stubborn princess." he growled as he clenched his hands into fist, digging his nails into his palms to distract himself from the numbing pain. She glared at him for a moment but then her expression turned serious and determined.

"I am not leaving you to die. Not again." she snapped, keeping her eyes away from his face as she continued applying pressure to his wound. So that's what this was all about? She was staying because she felt like she had deserted him? His expression softened a bit but he still glared at her as he sighed in exasperation.

"Clarke, that wasn't you're fault. You made the ri-"

"Just shut up and let me help you!" she yelled, her voice cracking towards the end of the sentence. It was almost hard to take her seriously with all of the frustrated tears carving sad pathways through the dried blood on her face, but the familiar 'I'm not taking no for an answer' expression she held was enough to make him shut up.

It was in that very moment that the Mountain Men finally finished their slaughter. He and Clarke were the only two survivors left in the hallway. Bellamy's breath unwillingly hitched in his throat as they aimed their guns, the green lasers hovering directly over their two tired bodies. It was over for them.

"Stop!" Clarke exclaimed and Bellamy's eyes widened slightly as she moved in front of him, shielding his body with hers. He wanted to push her out of the way, to yell at her because _she had lost her damn mind_. If anything, they would shoot her and then move her dead body out of the way. She was merely a small obstacle to the Mountain Men and they seemed to know it, their fingers moving toward the triggers on their guns.

"You can't shoot. We both know I'm a vital subject for your experiments; I'm the only one you exposed to 5 GYs of radiation. You still need me to test your stupid cures." she bargained, her voice holding an angry yet desperate tone. Bellamy vaguely remembered learning about radiation on the Ark and the only number he remembered was 6. 6 GYs of radiation was fatal, and Clarke had been exposed to 5. It made his urge to strangle every single one of the Mountain Men grow exponentially.

Briefly, the Mountain Men seemed to take this into consideration. They lowered their guns and for a small moment, Bellamy thought they would live through this. But nothing was ever that easy, was it?

One of the Mountain Men use a hand to grab Clarke by the arm and Bellamy instinctively reached out for her because _that's the princess they're touching, dammit_. That only earned him a blow to the forehead with the blunt end of a gun. Stars exploded within his vision, his head dropping forward and pounding as he feebly watched Clarke get thrown against the opposite wall.

"Sedate Griffin and then kill the boy." one of the commanders said and then he and a few of his men continued their march down the hallway. He could hear Clarke's voice echoing somewhere, but it seemed far away as his bleary eyes focused on the gun barrel that was now directed at his face.

So, this was how he was going to die, huh? A few weeks ago, if you told him he was going to get executed after unsuccessfully failing to save Clarke Griffin from the clutches of the Mountain Men, he would probably scoff and then slap you upside the head for coming up with such a ridiculous story. But now the only thing he could think about was how he failed her. _He failed the Princess._ She was going to be dragged away by the Mountain Men and they would continuing torturing her with their sadistic chemistry. Clarke Griffin was brave, stubborn and infuriating, but she was also caring and loyal and so many other things that he probably didn't have time to list because _he was about to be murdered_. But none-the-less the princess, _his princess_ , was going to break eventually, and no one would be there to piece her back together.

His sister would never see him again, if she was even still alive. He would never find her. He would never know if she was okay. The delinquents would have no one but the Ark survivors to lead them, and Bellamy knew that probably wouldn't turn out too well. _'At least they made it out'_ he thought to himself, grasping on to the only good thing in this fucked up situation.

Clarke's voice was silent by now, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know that she had been knocked out by whatever concoction of drugs the Mountain Men had put together as a sedative. She would wake up soon, alone and once again imprisoned in her crisp white cell. Bellamy didn't have that option. He braced himself for death as a resounding bang echoed throughout the hallway, followed by a wave of sudden heat. He was confused for a moment because _he still wasn't dead_ and _that was much too loud and hot to be a gunshot_. His dark eyes fluttered open for a moment and were greeted with the sight of Miller, Jasper and Monty standing at the end of the hallway.

"We found the weapons room." Jasper said simply, his usual crooked smile on his face as he waved his bazooka around in the air (which caused Monty and Miller to momentarily duck for cover). Bellamy turned his head to the newly created wreckage, his eyes fixating on the collapsed chunk of ceiling that was now crushing the Mountain Men that happened to be standing underneath it. Those that weren't underneath it were now standing with their hands in the air as a surrender, their guns discarded on the floor beside them. He gave the three boys a grateful nod before coughing a bit as dust and smoke filled his lungs.

"Let's get out of here." he yelled, determined to succeed this time. Miller rushed over to Clarke before picking her up in his arms bridal style and Bellamy kept his glare at bay (because _this was supposed to be his rescue mission_ ). Jasper and Monty helped him into standing position and draped his arms over their shoulders, the small group setting off down the hallway and toward freedom. Maybe his luck was pretty great after all.


End file.
